


mine

by st_elsewhere



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, cesc is loyal, iker is like the victim, kinda dark? ish, robin is probably fucked up in the head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>to be completely honest, robin is not a masochist. he’s just smug. he never has a problem with iker before, but they’re not exactly chummy either. as the university’s renowned ice prince cum valedictorian candidate, iker is the perfect epitome of an emotionally constipated twenty-something man graced with zero sense of humor and, fortunately, the spanish royal face—which translates as the complete opposite to robin’s typical rich kid who drives an audi and generally being the assumed douche bag everyone seems to envy.</p><p>apparently, they have one thing in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mine

**Author's Note:**

> no excuse FTW (but there's really sumting wrong with robin here).  
> kudos and comments are encouraged and appreciated. thank you.  
> have a nice day yo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“goddammit van persie.” if it’s not iker spitting his name like venom, robin would’ve considered anyone doing that as _whining_. “tame your pet, will you?” he’s donning even deeper frown than his usually patented _i don’t have time for your bullshit™_ , and his hooded eyes are on fire.

robin smirks to the rim of his beer cup.

“doesn’t stop you from your pathetic infatuation, does he?”

iker tenses his jaw.

robin doesn’t miss a beat.

“i might have found out that you want to fuck my boyfriend, but tell me,” he shifts closer to the older boy until their bare arms are brushing. “is it the cliche his smile warming up your icy heart? is it his small frame, hm? do you think he’s _tame_ enough in bed, casillas, or do you want him to fight you instead?”

“for a jealous owner, you sure are a masochist,” the older man snorts a half-laugh, surreptitiously inching away from robin’s intentional mocking presence. “and it’s none of your business.”

to be completely honest, robin is not a masochist. he’s just smug. he never has a problem with iker before, but they’re not exactly chummy either. as the university’s renowned ice prince cum valedictorian candidate, iker is the perfect epitome of an emotionally constipated twenty-something man graced with zero sense of humor and, fortunately, the spanish royal face—which translates as the complete opposite to robin’s typical rich kid who drives an audi and generally being the assumed douche bag everyone seems to envy. 

apparently, they have one thing in common.

“of course it is my business,” robin chuckles with a sneer, “cesc is mine.”

as if on cue, cesc’s distinctively carefree laughter is transmitting through the open air and both robin and iker are looking for the source; for the effortlessly sexy goofball freshman who manages to knock the douche bag out of his own head while driving the ice prince mad with disgust and disbelieving desire.

they’re in robin’s family villa enormous backyard, because robin knows how to have a good time and his parties are always the best. finals just ended earlier that day, and you can find a friend of a friend there. the booze is endless and the foods are great, because some people are considerate enough to bring supplies.

“isn’t he adorable?” robin is not being sarcastic because he’s talking about his own boyfriend. but maybe he is. iker is in a misery after all.

cesc is shirtless. his smooth torso is glistening wet thanks to the chlorine water, his nipples are perky because of the rather breezy evening. an ombre colored haired girl is perched on his shoulders, caging cesc’s head with her tanned thighs. they look like they’re playing chicken fight and probably have just won because people are chanting their names.

“get your shit together, van persie.” iker sure loves to spit robin’s name. “why does it sound like you’re pimping out _your_ _boyfriend_ to me? that’s fucked up.” and he leaves without a chance to get a revenge out of robin’s gobsmacked silence.

...

like.

oh.

_oh._

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

cesc was a virgin when robin first slept with him and robin had never even kissed another boy before.

and it’s not like he’s culminating a new hobby trying to get into boys’ pants after what he first deemed as his _big bi adventure_ ; because no matter how drunk he is or how pretty those boys are, he gets repulsed by their musky scents and sculpted jaws under his hands. and then he’s back to girls’ dainty wrists and fruity sex.

later, he finds out that cesc is actually in love with him and he’s totally into that.

dating cesc is easy. contrary to popular belief, cesc is turning off his ‘obnoxiousness’ whenever he’s with robin. in fact, it’s as if cesc is channeling his inner dependence which he can’t just (refuse to) show in front of other people. not even his closest friends like that idiot pique or meek messi know how cesc always seeks for robin’s touch and approval and, even though robin is not sure yet, love. 

that can only mean that robin is special. meaning, cesc trusts him.

robin grows a habit to spoil cesc rotten with, foolishly so, his money, before he actually starts spending time with cesc to listen to his hopes and fears. willingly. which speaks a volume, because robin, usually, doesn’t do relationships. he’s nineteen. yet he doesn’t mind to be responsible of cesc’s being.

thus, knowing there’s someone with a dick is interested in cesc and he realizes that he’s _o~kay_ with it, now that’s a whole different story. 

he’s always thought that cesc was made only for him. that he’s the one who can understand and take care of the younger boy. not even bi or gay, remember? big deal. but watching iker, that fucking i-work-two-jobs-for-a-roof-and-daily-meals casillas, watching cesc with that veiled deep feeling sprinkled with intense lust is pulling the trigger in him.

like, he _just_ wants to know.

as cesc rides him agonizingly slow, robin wonders what kind of face his younger boyfriend is going to make when there’s another hard body pressed up against him from behind, ghosting their callused hands all over his sensitive nipples and gripping his narrow hips as they rubs their erection in between the cleft of cesc’s supple ass. will cesc throw his head to their shoulders and moans, begs them to fill him with his cock? can cesc take two? that’d be so fucking hot, but robin doesn’t think he wants to have iker’s dick anywhere near him.

oh well.

“robin,” cesc sniffs. he’s looking down at him, his hips are stuttering to a stop on robin’s—“you’re softening.”—cock.

“shit. yeah, sorry.” robin scrambles to sit up straighter on his bed, gently bringing cesc along with him. he helps pulling cesc out of his cock, swallowing down his disappointment and rubbing cesc’s lower back as an apology.

it’s supposed to be a quiet week for the two of them. london has been gloomy for a while, and earlier that day cesc checked his grades, saw that he’s almost flunking a class, and sulked stubbornly in front of the walking dead season four marathon. robin only managed to coax him to eat and to shower after a promise of his home cooked omelette. robin does make killer omelette, his mum once said. 

cesc is sighing and pushing robin’s hands away. his own cock is deflating as well, and he climbs off of robin’s hips to lie on his side. he bites the crook of robin’s left elbow and asks, “what’s on your mind?” 

“huh?”

“i could hear your brain whirring, robin. what are you thinking?”

robin _thinks_ it’s not fine to lie. but should he tell cesc the truth?

he slouches down so he’s lying on his side too. he kisses cesc deeply but briefly and keeps an eye contact as he says, “you’ve never been with anyone else, right?”

cesc frowns, but he nods slowly. unsurely.

“what is it, robin?”

“promise me you’re not going to flip.”

“i promise.”

“yeah, well. you’re up for a threesome?”

“i—” cesc gapes, and he puts a distance away from robin. he looks hurt, of all things that he should have been feeling at robin’s proposition.

“just saying,” robin shrugs, deciding not to mind cesc’s honest reaction too much. “i just want to know.”

“know what?” cesc snaps, anger is evident in his dark chocolate eyes.

“how you respond to somebody else’s touch.” and at cesc’s audible but totally slipped out gasp, robin knows he’s late to regret everything. “cesc, _shit_ , please come here,” he tries to grab cesc’s retreating figure but cesc is already gathering his clothes and stomping to robin’s en suite bathroom, closing the door with a bang and locking it. 

“i can explain,” robin doesn’t bother with modesty and comes knocking the bathroom door stark naked. “cesc? i’m so sorry, it’s so fucking stupid. please forgive me.”

it doesn’t take long for cesc to open the door, fully clothed and eyes reddened, and his voice is shaky when he demands robin to try explaining it to him.

robin, feeling rather self-conscious with his state of undress, puts on his boxer and guides cesc to sit on the bed. he bends down to look at cesc, silently pleading for forgiveness, and didn’t he say cesc is the one who’s in love with him? because cesc’s anger dissolves into thin air as he (shyly) slaps robin’s face away from trying to nuzzle his neck.

“i’m sure iker wants you,” robin chuckles, sneaking a kiss to the tip of cesc’s nose. “and i’m sure you’re clueless. see?”

cesc scoffs, crosses his arms, and mumbles that of course i don’t know anything about anyone else but you.

robin grins and pinches cesc’s chin.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “let’s delete this conversation. i’m so sorry.”

“okay,” cesc nods, poking at robin’s clavicle. he looks up and stares at robin from behind his eyelashes. “want me to suck your cock?” and robin is not going to say no to that.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

ever since his failed proposition, cesc has been acting like he’s waiting for the ticking bomb inside of him to explode. when they first started dating, one of cesc’s early complains about robin was that robin ‘is not attentive enough’ among ‘too show off-y’ and ‘stubbornness’. but robin is nothing if not learning to be a better man (boyfriend, really), so.

robin realizes that cesc stays more often in his apartment; checking his cellphone’s call logs whenever he thinks he’s not looking, making sure to go to his classes clad in robin’s two sizes bigger designer t-shirts because he knows robin is territorial, and glaring at flirty waitresses and pretty baristas and according to his web history on his ipad, obsessively checking iker’s facebook and twitter timeline, probably too paranoid about the whole ordeal. 

ah, robin can’t help but to smirk, cesc is really the cutest.

he wonders what would iker do if he told him about it.

not that he’s going to let iker come near cesc or anything.

but. yeah.

what _would_ iker _do?_

 

 

 

 

 

“are you out of your mind?”

robin scoffs, and then he shrugs.

“well, casillas, he’s gonna be drunk. and then he just needs a little persuasion,” robin ignores the fact that iker has his fists clenched, ready to aim a punch or two to him. “like, i have no problem with that. and i’m his boyfriend.”

“jesus fuck,” iker turns and slams his right fist to the wall, _“fuck!”_

“calm down,” robin mumbles and takes another long swig of his beer, sniffing as iker heaves next to him. the club is packed, and cesc is somewhere dancing with a couple of girls from paris or sydney (or are those their names?) half an hour ago and iker is here because his best friend sergio ramos is currently making out with someone who looks like an underage boy on his lap.

“my place or yours?” robin asks after a moment.

“i’m going to report you to the police, van persie, i swear,” iker says, ruining his neat hairdo with his trembling hands. robin scoffs again, before he laughs out loud,

“fuck, _broer,_ it’s just sex!” 

“yeah? but i’m not going to fuck your _unconscious_ boyfriend no matter how much you’re dying to watch!”

“oh yeah? ask him then. ask him politely like a boring man you are and quench your fucking thirst. i’m only giving you this _one_ chance, casillas.”

iker is _fuming._

“i don’t need a pity fuck,” he hisses in between gritted teeth. even in the dimmed lighting robin can see the strained tendons on iker’s neck. 

“it’s not a pity fuck if i’m there with you,” the cheap beer tastes bland now, and robin’s mood is getting sour, too. “you can kiss him, you know? what else could you possibly want besides his body?”

at iker’s uncharacteristic silence, robin has to pause because it’s so fucking ridiculous. the truth, that is.

“dude that’s _pathetic_ ,” he laughs, short and rude because his fingertips are tingling with an unknown kind of electricity. “he’s mine.” and there’s an extra sharpness from robin’s voice as he tones down the urge to smash his beer bottle to iker’s head.

“no shit, van persie.” iker sounds so small. “your place is better. i can let myself out after.”

 _“what?”_  

“not gonna say it twice.”

“he’s still mine.”

“i heard you the first time.”

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

the ride to robin’s apartment is awkward, and it goes unsaid. iker doesn’t have a car, so he sits on the backseat of robin’s audi and cesc is rigid for the whole forty five minutes drive in the front seat, while robin is trying his best to dismiss his steadily increasing heartbeats.

when they arrive, robin almost cracks a joke _don’t steal anything_ as iker toes off his shoes but distracts his brain by slipping one hand into cesc’s plain white shirt.

cesc instantly tip toes and whispers to robin’s left ear, “robin, _please_.” and when robin looks down, cesc is pleading with his clear, not-drunk eyes.

“do me a favor, _mijn zon_ , he’s not going to hurt you,” robin says, his fingers are deftly unbuttoning cesc’s shirt while he kisses him softly, hopefully reassuringly. “just lie back and take it.”

cesc shoves him then, hard, like never before, and robin stumbles two steps back and his head is spinning from the impact. after the red and black dots are gone from his vision, iker is in front of him, staring at him strangely.

as if he’s _worried_ about him.

“he’s in the bedroom,” robin needs another drink. he has a bottle of vodka somewhere, he’s sure. “don’t touch him.”

iker mocks giving up, and follows robin to the kitchen, his eyes are actively scanning everything in sight from robin’s 60’ flat screen TV and its sophisticated blu-ray player to the hipster paintings lining up cream colored wall and the modern, gleaming kitchen where cesc likes to experiment with online recipes.

“vodka?” robin asks as he opens the sleek refrigerator.

“yeah, thanks.” iker says, leaning back against the marbled bar.

robin pours them two full shots each. iker asks where the bathroom is, and robin tells him to use one in his bedroom.

cesc is sitting cross-legged on the bed, naked and breathing hard, like he’s willing himself not to cry. his clothes are folded neatly on robin’s (cesc’s because he wanted one) mustard colored beanbag.

robin _can hear_ iker gulping.

“well are you gonna do something about it?” cesc snaps, and robin gets a deja vu. cesc is using the same tone when robin first proposed the idea of him getting fucked by another person preferablyonlyiker because he wanted to _know_ how cesc is going to respond to the touch.

robin goes to get the lube and condoms from the bottom drawer, strips off his own plain white shirt, and raises an eyebrow at dazed iker.

from where he’s sitting near the head board of his bed, robin _can see_ the tips of cesc’s ears are reddening. of course. cesc loves this kind of quiet attention. he loves it when robin knuckles his cheeks in public places and robin shielding his smaller body when they were squashed in glastonbury or in the rare times when robin doesn’t mind the tubes. iker’s simple adoration is obviously on the list.

the unknown kind of electricity is back, buzzing on robin’s fingertips.

cesc is glancing at him unsurely when iker disappears into the adjoined bathroom, and robin scoots closer until cesc is pressed flush back to chest against him. he’s not hard.

“what’s this?” robin kisses the first bump of cesc’s spine, his right hand is snaking to fondle with cesc’s balls. he’s meant to be playful, but cesc is grabbing his wrist, warning him.

“i don’t want it.” cesc bites his bottom lip. “please, robin. i hate this.” 

“you don’t have to love it.” robin presses his forehead to the spot where he just kissed, and when cesc struggles to get away from him, he growls, “stay still.”

cesc sobs when robin’s kisses are trailing down and down to the twin dimples on his back. he falls to his elbows and knees as robin maneuvers him like a marionette, his ass up in the air and his pleas muffled by the sheet. cesc can’t stand rimming. he got upset the first (and the last) time robin tried it, saying that he didn’t understand why would robin do that to please him. robin didn’t tell cesc that he didn't do it to please him, and it’s still not like that even now.

“stop—” cesc is tensing around robin’s teasing tongue. “robin, stop, please.” he whimpers  when robin squeezes his ass cheeks and licks a wet stripe across his rim. he makes another whimper/keening noise as robin closes his eyes and gathers his saliva at the tip of his tongue, transferring it inside with a single jab that forces cesc to take it, because robin adds a finger alongside his tongue to open him up.

cesc continues to whimper, but at least he’s not crying. he’s loosening, too, because no matter how he hates rimming, it’s still robin’s tongue; still a part of the man he loves with all of his eighteen year old heart.

robin adds another finger, crooking the longest pad upward and grazing cesc’s prostrate. 

cesc’s quiet _oh_ is like the sweetest conquest.

robin hums, questioning his boyfriend, and cesc’s whole body shudders deliciously as an answer. that’s good enough. robin straightens up, pulling out his fingers and using his thumbs to spread cesc’s ass wider. this way, he can concentrate to _please_ cesc while getting harder in his washed, designer jeans.

he’s snaking one hand to fondle with cesc’s half-hard cock again when cesc shouts, “d-don’t look!”

right. they’re not alone. he wanted iker, who is apologizing lamely, to be here.

robin pulls his mouth back with an obnoxious slurp, the sight of iker’s shirtless torso is doing nothing to his lust filled brain while cesc scrambles, almost kicking robin on the face with his cute feet. robin pulls him to sit up, caging his chest with his arms, but he lets cesc closes his legs as iker frowns to the ceiling, putting one shaking hand on his mouth. he’s hard; his skinny fit, unzipped black slacks are tightening around the crotch area.

“come here,” robin says to iker, tasting tangy flavor when he swallows. he clicks his tongue to chase the vague taste again. “condom’s over there,” he nods towards his bedside drawer.

“no,” cesc twists his body, moving way too fast so he’s perched on robin’s lap, kneeing robin’s stomach. he whines when robin grunts in pain, his eyes are wild and clear and robin shakes his head.

“robin!" 

“no, cesc, we’re going to do this. just this once,” robin holds cesc’s wrists with one hand while the other is waiting right in front of cesc’s mouth. “i swear,” he hooks his thumb to cesc’s bottom lip and cesc obediently swallows his two fingers, sucking and licking them religiously, coating them with the only kind of lubricant he’s going to have tonight.

robin nods at iker who’s done slipping the condom on his okay-looking cock. it’s huge, but robin is not in any way interested. 

“he’s not going to hurt you,” robin presses a lingering kiss on the crook of cesc’s neck and left shoulder. “i promise.” he pulls his fingers out and steers them south, plunging them into cesc’s rather dry hole.

cesc spreads his knees wider, planting them firmly on the bed, arching his back and clawing at the headboard. soon he’s rocking back against robin’s impatient fingers. he does hate rimming, but he’s a slut for robin’s long and slender digits.

iker is panting. it’s hard to miss the foreign sound amidst his and cesc’s usually hushed groans and moans.

robin nods again at iker, liking the fact that iker is being sensible by not taking off his slacks completely; in fact, they cling to his upper, muscular thighs. his boxer brief is white. his condom covered cock is in a dozen different shade of red and it’s pointing up as iker climbs to bed, shuffling until he’s thisclose to cesc’s relaxed body. 

robin tosses iker the water based lube and the older man catches it easily with his left hand. 

“touch him, casillas.”

iker quickly strokes his cock with a dollop of cold lube and cesc whines, tugging at robin’s hairline on his nape to kiss him. robin kisses back with equal aggressiveness, biting and sucking cesc’s tamarind-sweet tongue, and smiles when cesc gasps, brokenly, as iker pushes in.

this is it. robin finally gets to watch his own boyfriend getting fucked by another person. thankfully, as he drinks the details of cesc’s closed eyes and determined frown, cesc doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it; doesn’t seem to appreciate iker’s sloppy thrusts and iker’s calloused hands mapping his body. sure, cesc can’t help the wanton noises from coming out of his swollen lips, there’s a hard, huge, hungry cock pounding into him, after all, probably already hitting his prostrate as robin licks beads of sweat forming on his eyebrows and thumbing the juts of his sharp hipbones.

and then robin slumps even more to the bed, liking the creaking from his expensive bed and the extra weight of iker on top of him. he also likes it that iker doesn’t touch him, keeping his hands solely on cesc’s jiggling ass, waist, thighs, shoulders, peppering worshipping kisses to cesc’s spine and nape; his very own steady but suppressed grunts are of pure bliss.

robin concentrates on all of that, grinding his erection back against cesc’s stomach as cesc’s hard cock is now oozing out precum.

he realizes he’s been grinning when he decides to be cruel.

“is he filling you up nicely?” robin is only asking because cesc will be honest with him. it’ll be either an ego boost for iker or an unintentional humiliation from cesc, who needs a moment before he can open his mouth—but even then, only another string of incoherent syllables can be heard.

pfft. no big deal, robin tells himself.

cesc opens his eyes; they’re liquid black and cesc is half glaring at robin, blaming him, but then iker changes his pace and he’s mewling robin’s name.

“robin, robin, robin, robin i—” robin rubs his thumbs to cesc’s pert nipples to tell him that he’s listening. cesc shudders, accidentally pushing his ass back to iker’s vigorous fucking, abruptly putting a pause to everything as iker breathes heavily, scratching his nails against cesc’s skin.

“yeah?” robin uses his elbows to push himself up, and both cesc and iker are doing the same; iker gently cradling cesc’s upper body with his strained arms while cesc putting his head on iker’s right shoulder. 

robin wishes he’s got his cellphone within his reach.

“i—” cesc speaks as if he’s underwater. “nnngh, want—want your cock,” he whispers, sighing wistfully.

“later, _zonneschijn_ ,” robin chuckles, popping open the lid of the lube and pouring some on his palms. “wanna come?” he asks, teasing the head of cesc’s cock. “casillas?” cesc flinches at the name, but he nods shyly to answer robin.

“yeah,” iker mumbles, rolling his hips and making cesc moan out in surprise. “sorry.”

“what a gentleman,” robin snorts, flicking his wrist the way cesc loves it and cesc must be tightening around iker’s cock like a vice, if iker’s loud gasp is any indication. “isn’t he great?” he keeps on stroking cesc’s cock, waiting for anyone to answer him truthfully.

“shut up,” iker hisses first, fucking cesc faster with punctual thruststhruststhrusts, “but _dear lord,_ yeah, van persie. he’s tight.”

“robin!” cesc is pushing back to iker’s cock and to robin’s hand, flushing and sweating and looking so small. 

robin hums, moving his hand faster, matching it with iker’s even sloppier than before rhythm.

“i meant it when i said you can kiss him,” robin rubs the veins on the underside of cesc’s cock, sees a glimpse of iker’s purpling cock disappearing behind cesc’s heavy balls, and squeezes. “go on.”

iker acts as if he’s going to die if he comes before he gets to taste cesc’s lips, because he doesn’t waste any second to grab cesc’s jaw and there’s no other word than _devour_ that suits what iker is doing to cesc’s unassuming lips. 

“heh,” robin sneers as cesc grabs a handful of iker’s hair, trying to get away from the kiss but is not that innocent to really _stop_ iker from doing so. cesc is not exactly kissing back, robin knows from the way he’s just passively taking everything.

good boy.

“fuckgonnacum,” iker grunts, fucks, fucks, and fucks into cesc, and bites cesc’s bottom lip as he releases with a deep moan, cesc’s expression changes and then he lets go, too, as quiet as ever whenever he’s having an orgasm, and apparently the sight of cesc’s concave stomach and fluttery chest and that pale throat bobbing with iker’s suddenly hulking body all over are quite _hot_ , to say the least.

not that robin is going to tell the world about it.

iker really does deserve all the awards and scholarship and internship and valedictorian status because he doesn’t stay too long inside of cesc, robin approves smugly as iker struggles to keep his silence while pulling his spent cock out of cesc’s limp body. iker takes approximately ten seconds to compose himself before he climbs out of the bed and goes to the bathroom. cesc’s damp body is plastered to robin’s, and robin kisses the top of cesc’s drenched head. 

he hoists cesc up so his younger boyfriend is lying on his side, and he uses his right arm as a pillow for him. cesc scrunches his nose cutely when robin pinches his ass, and asks almost inaudibly,

“you didn’t come?”

“you wanted my cock, remember?” robin winks, and after cesc is satisfied with his half-hearted neck slapping revenge, robin continues, “i’m sorry.”

“i know,” cesc looks up from behind his eyelashes, “just this once, you promised.”

“i promise.” robin kisses him, wishing to the almighty and beyond that his sincerity is conveyed through this wordless gesture, because he sure as hell is not big on sappy words. “i’m really sorry,” he says it again for a good measure, and cesc nods and robin lifts the duvet to cover his little sun from iker’s pathetic eyes.

“i’m gonna see him off,” he says, getting up from bed and dimming the room’s central lighting as iker finishes in the bathroom.

“hey.”

“oh,” iker sounds startled, “yeah. i’ll just.” the light from the bathroom is telling robin that iker is already presentable for the street of london.

“want to drink something before you go?” robin leads them out, making sure that iker doesn’t look back to the lump on his bed.

“no, thank you,” iker’s face is red as he lingers on the living room, looking at anywhere else but robin.

“i—” he starts, but then he shakes his head. a wry smile is gracing his (fine) handsome, prince-like face. “i don’t know what to say." 

“then don’t say anything,” robin shrugs, casually glancing down at his shirtless state and his half-hard cock. “he’s mine.”

“i understand.”

“yeah, you had a good time, right?”

“sure." 

“see you around, then,” robin gestures to the front door, bowing a bit because iker is still older than him. “or not. doesn’t matter.” 

iker laughs and doesn’t bid goodbye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
